Birthday
by Bitch Slap Love
Summary: It’s Christophe’s seventh birthday and his father dies. So, he starts digging holes to hide in. That is, of course, until a new kid moves to town and won’t give him a moment’s peace. ChristopheGregory more like a friendship though


Disclaimer: Do not own them.

Title: Birthday

Summary: It's Christophe's seventh birthday and his father dies. So, he starts digging holes to hide in. That is, of course, until a new kid moves to town and won't give him a moment's peace. ChristopheGregory (more like a friendship though)

Warnings: Yaoi Cussing PWP (Kinda)OOC

Couple: ChristopheGregory (more like a friendship though)

Written By: Shino

Inspired By: Thinking 'I wonder where Mole got his shovel'

Comments: This is a stupid little thing that'll probably be bad. :twitch: Sorry. :bows:

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Birthday

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"I'm sorry ma'am, we did everything we could but his injuries were too extensive, I'm so very sorry."

My mother collapsed onto the floor sobbing hysterically into the front of my vest.

But I don't react, I thought this was coming; I just stand staring stony-faced at the wall, hand rubbing my mother's back.

It'll all be better soon

-----

I wake up early the next morning, unable to sleep anymore, and make my way downstairs and outside to the shed. I stare at the door, wanting to go in but not able to. All of my father's things are in there and I don't wan to make him angry by taking his things, but, he'll never need them again.

Determined, I thrust my arms out and slam the door open. I march inside, grab what I came for and hurry back out. I stand outside of the shed, eyes wide.

It's like my father was still there.

Blinking back tears, I start to work.

I shove the tip of my father's old, dirty shovel into the ground. I step on the head driving it farther into the once unmarred ground of my backyard and heave a load of dirt up. Quickly tossing it to the side, I repeat the motion.

It's not long before I have to jump inside to continue, and I do.

Digging, digging, digging.

It makes everything else seem a little better.

I stop and stare up, the rim of the hole is above my head and I know I won't be able to get out easily, so I sit. I plop down in the dirt, hug the shovel to my chest and sit, wishing the pain will go away soon.

-----

I've been kicked out of my backyard, mother didn't like me tearing it up, so I relocated to a field I never see anyone on and start digging again, this time dead set on making tunnels.

About fifteen minuets pass when I hear something. So, I stop and listen, it sounds like someone is walking near my hole.

I scramble down the tunnel I just dug and peer up to see if there really is someone.

Grey blue eyes and neatly done blond hair greets me. "Hi! Is this your hole?" The face disappeared for a second before a second body jumped down into my hole. "I'm Gregory! I just moved here from Yardale where I had a four o grade average!"

A clean pale hand was extended.

I took it within my own hesitantly.

While I stared at our joined hands I noticed how dirty and tanned mine were. When had that happened?

"'hat ze fuck do you vant?"

Not one of my most polite greetings.

He, Gregory, looked a little discouraged and retracted his hand. "Um, what's your name?"

I paused for a moment before turning away and wandering back to where I had dropped my shovel.

He followed me but didn't say another word.

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"I'm going to call you 'Mole' from now on." I stopped digging, startled, and turned to stare. "I mean, you've never told me your name and all you ever do is dig." Gregory's hands went to his hips in mock-defiance. "You're just like a mole." He nodded to his own words and quieted back down.

Ze Mole?

Heh.

I could get used to that.

-----

"'eer." I moved behind the other and wrapping my arms around him, I repositioned his hands correctly and helped him press it into the dirt. "Zar you go. Mooch bettar." I retraced my arms and studied his face as he tried again.

This time, he got it right. "Veery gewd. Veery gewd."

He smiled up at me with utter joy and I found myself smiling back.

"Thanks for teaching me Mole!" The blond looked at me a moment longer before going back to digging.

A few shovel fulls later I was behind him, hugging him around the shoulders.

He stills and seemed to relax into the embrace.

"Zank you for 'elping me."

Blond hair tickled my cheek as the other nodded.

A new level of friendship seemed to open at that moment.

-----

It's been a few years since I met Gregory but I find that I still regard him the same as I did when I first met him. Wary but trusting.

His feeling seemed to of changed because he never looks me fully in the face anymore, well, at least when he thinks I'm looking at him.

Despite not knowing why, I know he's not going to leave me anytime soon.

And that's all that really matters.

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"Christophe." The blond started, looking at the dirt wall next to him.

"Hmm?" I reply, not bothering to look back from my current project.

"I. . . I have something I need to tell you." He paused but I still did not. "Could you look at me please?"

I stopped, a bit angrily, and turned, regarding the teen in the half-light. "Vat eez eet?"

He bit his bottom lip and refused to look at me at first but, slowly, his eyes came to rest on mine and he said in a soft, almost fearful, voice. "I just wanted to say; I love you." When it was said he turned and ran threw the tunnel.

I stood still for a moment before turning back to my work.

He would return.

I hoped.

-----

I was wrong.

Gregory never returned.

It seemed that later that day he was hit by a car that had been speeding in a school zone.

I never go to tell him my response to his confession.

But, maybe it was better that way.

Beside, who would what to hear it from a dirt-covered criminal that went by the name 'Ze Mole'?

Maybe Gregory was better off just having me whisper to his grave.

"I love you, too."

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So, uh, ded much?

Angst and I hadn't meant for it to be.

I'm sorry.

Plus, Mole's accent was for crap because I have a GREMAN accent and not a French one.

And

I'm sorry.

Feedback? Comments? Cookies? Flames?

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